


Bare

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 05:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: fic prompt for you: Mulder finds out that Scully's feet are ticklish. Missing scene from Pilot.





	Bare

The rain is lashing against the motel room and the candle flickers on each gust of wind. She’s not shaking with fear any more but she is shivering. He pulls back the covers and pats his bed. She eyes him warily.

“I don’t bite, Scully.”

“It’s not the biting I object to,” she says, then her lips shut and a blush burns on her cheeks. Dana Scully is really letting her guard down tonight. She collects herself as she perches on the edge of his bed.

She’s still wearing her runners but doesn’t seem to register this as she swings her legs to the side. He kneels to untie them but she seems to snap back to Agent Scully, pushing his hands away.

“You do it then,” he says, a little too quickly.

She twists around to pull apart the knots but realises that at this angle she’ll be revealing her underwear for the second time if she carries on with the movement. She sighs and he pulls the laces, slipping the shoe over her heel. His thumb brushes her sole and she rubs at her upper lip with the side of her index finger.

“Are you ticklish, Agent Scully?”

She shakes her head and that glorious hair curls about her shoulders. He removes the other runner and takes a longer, slower swipe at her sole. She sucks in a breath and this time she’s not trying to hide her laughter. Her mouth drops open further and he imagines his tongue plunging in to explore all the things she hasn’t shared with him, to taste all the words she hasn’t said. She’s like an oil painting on that bed, crimson and copper and ice blue. With one hand under the back of her head and the other playing with the threads on the coverlet, she’s so far removed from the baggy-suited, bright-eyed woman from yesterday. There’s still a stubborness to the set of her chin but the rest of her is open, waiting.

It would be so easy to fuck her, to fuck them all, the suits and their orders. But she’s bared herself to him tonight and besides, she’s growing on him.

He slides down, back to the edge of the bed. “I was twelve when it happened…”


End file.
